


Warm and Soft

by Siver



Series: Final Fantasy VI/Ghost Trick [42]
Category: Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective
Genre: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, FFVI GT AU, Final Fantasy VI AU, Fluff, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-18 21:42:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29615856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siver/pseuds/Siver
Summary: It's a treasured gift, always was, always will be
Relationships: Alma/Cabanela/Jowd (Ghost Trick)
Series: Final Fantasy VI/Ghost Trick [42]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1169099
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	Warm and Soft

**Author's Note:**

  * For [laughingpineapple](https://archiveofourown.org/users/laughingpineapple/gifts).



> Some AU loving with the Happiest of Birthdays to you, dear friend!

The stars began to wink into view as night settled over the desert. Cabanela’s fingers tapped lightly over the balcony rail as he stared first up at the stars—the night would be brilliant in their glow later—and then over the rolling sands and wondered if this old, familiar sight would ever not be breath-taking. He hoped not. What was less familiar was the faster drop in temperature.

He shivered and instinctively reached for his shoulder only for his fingers to brush against the simple cloth of his shirt. Letting his hand drop, he frowned at the desert. It was a habit he thought long-broken just as the scarf was long lost—tainted, lost, damaged beyond repair. He’d never even considered replacing it. After all, what could replace the irreplaceable?

*

_“I have a gift for you,” Alma had said the night before he was to return to Vector._

_He sat comfortably between Alma and Jowd, and despite his bright claims that he would be back before any of them knew it, he started to feel the pangs of leaving now as the realization that this would be the last night for a while settled in. Of course there were things to look forward to on his return, the professor not least (one day he’d convince the old bird to make the trip), but at some point the desert, its suns, had won out._

_Alma passed a thin package wrapped in fine paper. When he gently peeled it back red fabric was revealed and unfolded into a long woven scarf. Cabanela held part of it up, soft against his fingers, and eyed it appreciatively._

_“Is this what you were workin’ on, baby?”_

_“Yes, although,” here Alma poked his nose lightly, “you weren’t supposed to know about that.”_

_He only grinned and slung the scarf over his shoulders letting both ends drape down._

_“This is looovely.”_

_“I thought it might help to keep that ‘looovely’ neck warm during your trip.”_

_Jowd toyed with one end of the trailing scarf then held it up front of Cabanela’s neck. “It might if he knew how to wear one.”_

_Cabanela caught both their hands. “Who neeeeds to right now?”_

*

“Cabanela?”

Cabanela pirouetted to see Alma at the door framed in their room’s light.

“Dinner’s ready,” she said. She caught his hand when he approached and frowned with what he could swear was a certain satisfaction as if she’d proven something to herself. However, she said nothing except to comment on him being cold and chivvied him inside where Jowd and a spread of hot food waited at their table for a private meal.

There was nothing forthcoming over dinner either and the moment was buried under cheerful talk, fond glances and pure comfort in their presence.

It came as they lingered over wine. Alma took out a thin package and passed it to Cabanela with a small smile.

“A gift for tonight, and, well, everything I suppose.”

Cabanela let his fingers linger over the fine paper, anticipation building. Of course it could be something else entirely and it would be a gift no less treasured for it. Jowd and Alma both watched as he finally pulled the paper back and red fabric spilled out. The scarf flowed through his fingers, soft and silky, and of a finer material, more suited to the desert, he supposed. More suited to… home.

“Your finest work,” he said softly.

“I’m afraid I’m rather out of practice, but I started it over the year. It was a way of hoping…” she faltered.

“That you’d come home,” Jowd finished gruffly.

Cabanela stared at the couple and no such uncertainties and what-ifs were allowed here anymore. He slung the scarf over his shoulders, relishing the familiar feel of it settling into place. A small missing piece now returned. He beamed at them.

“Your fiiinest, baby.”

Alma took a sip of wine with a more relaxed smile, and a teasing sparkle lit her eyes. “It certainly has a fine display. We’ll have to see how it fares tonight.”

“You’ve given it a terrible disadvantage,” Jowd said with a smirk. “He still doesn’t know how to wear one.”

“We’ll just have to put it to the teeest, won’t weee?” Cabanela shot back.

The thing was it wasn’t a fair test. How could it be with such unfair competition? The stars shone as brilliantly as Cabanela expected, blanketing the sky and revealing the clear shifts in constellations they were still discovering and delighting in pointing out, and maybe making some things up along the way. The cooling evening air had grown chill and Cabanela proved he did indeed know the proper use of a scarf, more or less, with the added benefit of length for sharing it between them.

However, no matter how appreciated and pretty it was, and it was currently the second prettiest thing Cabanela could see right now, coming under its maker and her husband tied for first place always, it was still in the end a strip of cloth, and what could that really do against an enveloping cloak and a pair of large arms wrapping him and Alma into Jowd’s embrace?


End file.
